Her heart stuttered. That long?
“Please, Goraath.” She reached for him, wrapping her hand around his cock. Hot and hard and silky, it pulsed in her palm. “I need you inside me.”
He made a sound like she’d hurt him, his hips jerking into her grip. She stroked once, twice, feeling the slickness at the tip. She looked up. His head had fallen back, throat exposed, and his jaw clenched tight. When his eyes met hers again they were wild, barely controlled, and his pupils had swallowed almost all the amber.
“Stop.” He caught her wrist, pulled her hand away. “Can’t—if you keep doing that, this is over before it starts.”
She let go and watched him position himself between her legs. The broad head of his cock pressed against her entrance, hot and blunt, and her breath caught. She clenched around nothing, her body desperate to be filled.
“Look at me.” He cupped her face with one hand, the other braced beside her head. “You’re sure? We can stop. We can?—”
“Yes.” She hooked her legs around his hips. “Please. I’m sure.”
He pushed forward, and the stretch was immediate. Intense. She was tight, and he was so big, almost too big. There was a burn before her body adjusted, opened, took him deeper.
He pushed forward another inch, slow and steady, letting her feel every bit of him. The stretch bordered on too much, her body working to accommodate his size, but god it felt good. So good.
Another inch and she gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He paused to let her adjust, then pushed deeper. The burn faded into pleasure, her body softening around him, welcoming him in.
“Okay?” His voice was strained, every muscle in his body above her locked with restraint. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Too much?”
“Don’t stop.” She pulled him closer with her legs. “Oh god, please don’t stop.”
He groaned and pushed deeper, inch by inch, gaze on hers. When he was fully seated inside her, he stopped, holding himself still over her.
She felt impossibly full, stretched around him, claimed in a way she’d never been before.
“You feel perfect.” He stayed still, letting her adjust, and brushed hair away from her face with a gentle touch. “So draanthing perfect. Like you were made for me.”
Then he started to move.
Slow at first, careful thrusts that let her feel every inch of him. Let her feel the drag and slide of his cock, and the pressure deep inside her until she couldn’t hold in the gasp. Her hands found his shoulders, his back, holding on as the rhythm built.
“I’ve been dreaming about this.” The confession fell from his lips against her throat. “About you. Every night, lying here in this bed, thinking about you down the hall.”
“Me too.” She arched up against him, meeting his thrusts. “Since the hot springs?—”
“You watched me.” His next thrust went deeper, harder. “My naughty little m—. Did you think of me a lot after?”
“Yes—oh god, yes?—”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you either.” His breath was hot against her neck. “Drove me out of my mind.”
His hand slid between their bodies, found her clit while he moved inside her. The double sensation had her crying out, her nails digging into his back.
“Mine.” The growl was rough and possessive. “You’re mine, Juni. Say it.”
She should object but all she could do was moan his name as pleasure built again, faster and harder than before.
“Say it,” he demanded, his thumb pressing harder against her clit.
“Yours,” she gasped. “I’m yours.”
The words seemed to break the dam of control in him. His rhythm faltered, then picked up harder, deeper.
“I need you to come.” His thumb circled her clit in time with his thrusts. “I need to feel it. Need to know that I did that to you.”
The coil in her belly wound tighter, tighter, until it snapped. She came apart around him, clamping down on his cock as pleasure crashed through her in waves that left her breathless and shaking.
